Wife by Day Boss by Night (Natalie and Howard)by Thalia Quillspeax

Chapter 41 

Nate, gripping his fork awkwardly, seemed a bit embarrassed by his slip of the tongue. After a moment, he chuckled and crinkled his eyes in a mischievous attempt to charm his way out of the faux pas. 

Natalie’s son had passed away inside her three years ago, a silent grief she carried with her. If the child were alive, he would be 

about Nate’s age now. 

She remained silent for a while before giving Nate a smile and putting some scrambled eggs onto his plate as if to erase the earlier discomfort. She then sat down beside him to share the spaghetti he was twirling on his fork. 

As Nate slurped up his spaghetti, he continued to watch the live show streaming on TV. 

After a while, he frowned and said, “Nate doesn’t like it.” Natalie thought he was referring to her cooking, which was a tad too salty today. 

“Nate doesn’t like Ms. Harris.” Just as she was about to pour him a glass of water, Nate pointed to the woman next to Brian on the TV and said with conviction, “I don’t like her.” 

That was Madelyn Harris, Brian’s childhood friend who was two years his junior. The Harris family and the Howard family were close, so it wasn’t strange that Nate knew Madelyn. 

Natalie glanced at the TV and then back at Nate, asking, “Why don’t you like her?” 

Nate tilted his head, chewing on his spaghetti thoughtfully. After a long pause, he replied with a flushed face, “Just don’t like her.” 

After forcing down the less–than–tasty spaghetti with a loud gulp, he offered a generous compliment, “Yummy!” 

In his eyes, Mommy’s spaghetti was better than any chef’s at home! 

Natalie was taken aback by his candid praise, not yet thick–skinned enough to respond. 

Because of his aversion to Madelyn, Nate changed the channel to a cartoon network, munching on his spaghetti with glee. 

Natalie watched him thoughtfully as he finished his meal and then helped him with a glass of water before going to wash the 

dishes. 

By the time she cleaned up the kitchen, she found Nate slumped on the couch, fast asleep. 

Natalie approached to carry him to bed when she heard him mutter in his sleep, “Daddy…” 

Brian had lounged on that very couch a few days back, and the child might have caught his scent. 

As she reached to pick up Nate, she caught a glimpse of the small school badge pinned to his chest. Nathan Howard. 

Nathan, Nate, and Natalie… 

After a moment of silence, Natalie carried Nate to the bedroom, cleaned his face with a wet towel, and cleaned a few scratches on his face with iodine. 

She checked his bulging backpack and found a couple of crumpled clothes inside. 

A clear sign of a premeditated runaway attempt. 

She couldn’t help but laugh softly at the thought, just as she was about to change his clothes, her phone buzzed. 

It was Brian calling from Rosewood Estate abroad. 

Brian stood patiently on the porch, the heady scent of roses mingled with a hint of alcohol somewhat overwhelming. 

“Chatting with your wife?” Quinton tossed down the last two cards in the living room and glanced back with a smirk. 

Remington, glancing at his own cards, joined in teasingly, “Did she give you that little cut on your lip? Just a tiny scratch and it’s all over the news. No way we can compete with that.” 

“Even if you came out of a major battle wheelchair–bound, you still couldn’t match that tiny scratch of his,” Quinton laughed heartily. 

The others joined in the laughter and banter, but Brian, unperturbed, just smiled faintly, waiting for Natalie to pick up the phone. 

After half a minute, he finally heard, the “beep” signaling she had answered. 

Natalie remained silent.